


Course to Change

by Sunny_Trin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), BAMF Stiles, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Time Travel, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 09:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunny_Trin/pseuds/Sunny_Trin
Summary: Stiles wants to fix things. He wants to fix things so much that he goes off-half cocked and the spell he casts to put him in the right place to fix things instead puts him in the right time. Now Stiles has to take the 'long way' to get back to his own time - but is it a bad thing if it looks completely different when he gets there?
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Paige
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I felt bad that people keep leaving kudos for my abandoned two chapters of a different work, so I decided to post more things I'm never going to finish. This is why you outline, kids.

He stepped out of a fog and found himself at the school. He felt a strange sort of vertigo, and with a woosh, could tell, though he didn’t know how, that he’d woken up. It was like the air was clearer, the noises purer.

And there was a great beast like a werewolf advancing towards a young girl, a scream in her throat.

“Run!” He shouted, and the beast’s gaze instantly shifted towards him. The girl just stood there paralyzed. It was fine, though, because the great creature had shifted towards him, running at a lope. Stiles thought for a panicked moment about how he did not have any blessed iron or even a wand of rowan on his person, as he’d performed the spell in nothing but his boxers, and started pedaling backwards, teeth coming up to break the skin at his wrist.

The smell wouldn’t help him against the werewolf’s feverish bloodlust, but the magic pumping in his veins he could use as a last resort, and in seconds, wolf bearing down, he’d created a stunning spell. The creature reeled back as though blinded. Stiles saw the girl being led away by a frantic young man and he skirted around the feral werewolf to join them.

“Hurry! He won’t be stunned for long.” Stiles says, joining them. The werewolf growled in their direction and turned wildly, blindly, loping after them like a wounded dog.

“What are you doing here?” The young man demanded. Stiles stopped. But continued on a moment later when it was obvious he was carrying the girl to safety. He tugged them both into a classroom and bolted the door. It wouldn’t hold long, but he didn’t need long.

The young man -his own age, Stiles realized, didn’t seem to be comfortable with that.“What are you thinking? We need to -”

“We don’t need to do anything at the moment.” Stiles announced, his vicious tone belying the soft words. He laid his bloody hand against the wood, drawing a complex symbol. In a moment, it glowed faintly, and the wolf passed by the door as though he didn’t see it at all, chasing a scent he couldn’t track.

The girl whined, beginning to sob. Stiles put his finger to his mouth, forgetting how bloody his hands were and how unsettling that would appear to a normal human girl. “Just because the door is gone doesn’t mean he can’t hear us or smell us. Please, try to stay calm.”

Then he rounded on the young man, who was holding the girl gently. “I don’t know who you are, but you knew. Were you going to let that thing just attack an innocent girl?”

The girl started shaking, looking at him with betrayal in her eyes but not quite believing it enough to draw away.

There was a panicked look in his eyes for a moment before he folded like a house of cards, drawing away and curling in on himself with shame. “I… there was a part of me. That thought it would be easier. To let her take the bite.”

Stiles swore. “Are you a werewolf?”

The boy nodded, looking young and intensely naive as he stood there guiltily.

“A were… a werewolf?!” The girl started to scream, and Stiles quickly moved to clamp a hand down on her mouth.

“What did I just say?” He hissed harshly.

He wasn’t being very kind, but it’d been over a year since he’d had to deal with hysterics in regards to this sort of thing and he didn’t really have the patience for it.

He was almost relieved when her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fainted.

Stiles looked at the guilty, slumped werewolf standing in the corner. “You, my friend, need to talk to an adult about how to ask for consent, my god how dare you!”

Stiles heard a faint sob. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed bitterly. “Don’t apologize to me. It’s not me whose life would have been destroyed with that decision. What about her parents? Siblings? How’s she supposed to stay in school after her time of the month becomes deadly?”

“I get it, okay? I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done it.”

“What, you mean lured her into an abandoned school in the middle of the night deliberately so she could be attacked by a werewolf? You think it’s okay if you say sorry?!” Stiles had started to shout, and then he heard a roar, on the other side of the window. Stiles’ head snapped up to see a werewolf far closer than comfort to the glass. Stiles pulled the door open quickly, adrenaline pumping in his blood.

“Shit, grab her, we don’t have time to do this right now!” The other boy lifted his friend easily, and Stiles slammed the door shut the instant they were on the other side, watching with immense frustration as the werewolf smashed through the glass.

“No, this way.” Stiles hissed, pulling the dark-haired boy away from the entrance he was going for. They slunk to the other side, and Stiles was glad it was his school they were in. He beelined for the chemistry room. He hadn’t forgotten that handly lesson in making self-igniting molotov cocktails, and pulled the other two inside the room with him.

The other boy sighed. “Another classroom?”

Stiles glared. “I know an alpha when I see one. Can you take that thing down on your own?”

The young werewolf shook his head sheepishly. Stiles continued. “Can we expect backup?”

Again the werewolf shook his head. Stiles continued, pressing his point. “I’m unarmed, Mr. Bad-News Boyfriend, and you’re useless. So either you help me make self-igniting molotov cocktails in a chem classroom and we steal a car as that werewolf is being distracted by being on fire, or you come up with a plan.”

As he opened his mouth to respond, Stiles said, “You know what, nevermind. Don’t think of a plan, because I’ve known you for ten minutes and I can already tell your ideas are terrible.”

The other man growled then, and Stiles laughed, the sound refreshingly pathetic. Even Scott could be more frightening than that. “If you think I’m frightened of a teenage beta, you’ve got another thing coming.”

The boy, which Stiles had internally been calling wolfpuppy for how pathetic and young he seemed, threw his hands up. “I don’t understand you. You’re not even that much older than me.”

Stiles laughed bitterly. “Yes, and yet?”

Then Stiles was handing him things, and they set about making three bottled explosives. “How do you know how to do this?”

Stiles looked over to the wolfpuppy, and sighed. “I have this friend… who is basically badass. And along with being a supernatural godsend, is a bloody secret genius. She knows pretty much everything. Sometimes I think literally.”

The puppy snorted. “Girlfriend of your own?”

Stiles laughed, and this noise wasn’t quite as bitter. “I’d wanted to. A long time. But by the time we would have had the opportunity…”

His voice went sad and low then. “There just got to be too much life in the way. Too much pain and hurt and for all that she was bloody genius… the things she knew drove her mad, in the end.”

There was a long, awkward pause, and the other boy whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Stiles hissed. “Stop saying that, you hardly even know what it means, god.”

He bristled. “Of course I -”

“Seriously, you’re embarrassing yourself. Regret really hurts, man. It hurts too much for apologies.”

The wolfpuppy looked almost adorable with the way his face scrunched up in confusion. But he stopped arguing. In another moment, the three bombs were done, the girl was still, thankfully, unconscious, and they were sneaking out of the building.

They made it halfway to the exit when the werewolf came barreling around the corner, growling. Stiles heaved his arm to throw the Molotov in his hands in a feint, but apparently the move was believable enough.. The wolf predictably dodged quickly, catching the cocktail the other boy threw in the face. His fur ignited and he screamed in a rage, waking the girl, who instantly began to struggle.

Despite what Stiles had said about him being pathetic, his new wolfpuppy comrade was still a wolf, and he was able to run with a struggling girl in his arms. They made it to the entrance before the wolf caught up again, and Stiles smashed his own cocktail against the entrance. The wolf reeled backwards, fur singeing.

Stiles took a rock to the window of the first car he saw, gesturing the other boy to put the struggling girl in the back seat.

“Hey, are you okay? We’re gonna take you home, okay? You’ll be alright.” She breathed a little slower, recognizing that Stiles, at least, was not the enemy.

Stiles patted for his pockets then realized he was still in nothing but his boxers. “Hell. Wolf buddy, I need to borrow your claws.”

The other boy hissed, shooting pointed glances between the girl and Stiles as if to say, ‘don’t give away the game.’ Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Or we could die, whatever.”

“What do I do?” He asked, resigned. Stiles jumped in the driver's seat, and the wolfpuppy came around to the passenger seat. Stiles waved towards the center pillar. “Pull the hatch off; I need the wires exposed. Gently, though.”

He did so, and in a moment, Stiles was twisting some wires together. “How do you know how to do that?”

Stiles glanced up briefly, and untangled himself from the dash when the car started sluggishly. Then he was driving like a bat out of hell, just trying to get away. “I… well, let’s just say sometimes, you don’t have a choice.”

It was weird, being in the car with this quiet, naive werewolf. “I know I said we were going to take her to her house, but how do we know she’ll be safe?”

“Take her to my place. My mom will know what to do.”

The rest of the trip was spent quietly, the wolfpuppy in the passenger seat practically whispering the directions, and they started driving towards the forest. Stiles started to get a strange feeling as they pulled up to the quaint, white house, feeling strangely disoriented. He must have gotten lost, because he thought he knew what was in this direction, but he’d never seen this house before. Had they already built over it, and another werewolf family had moved in? Without them even noticing?

And then there were other people streaming out of the house. He heard the girl in the back’s breathing increase. Stiles turned. “It’s okay, they’ll keep you safe.”

He coaxed the girl out, seeing the hesitation on the faces of the others. The wolfpuppy had no hesitation. He walked straight into the arms of an older gentleman with greying hair, crying “Dad” as he made impact.

Stiles wouldn’t have been able to stand explaining everything with the girl there, so he gestured to another girl who looked about their age. “Can you help get her cleaned up? She’s had an exciting night.”

Stiles could tell that the other girl was trying to ask a question with her eyes as she glanced to her mother and then went towards him. So, to be charitable, he said “I have to stay here and explain everything. I’ll catch you up.”

Assuming this was a house full of werewolves, she’d just eavesdrop. And Stiles had no problem with that. Then he was being led away.

He glanced at the little wolfpuppy out of the corner of his eye, who had his head drooped and was looking shamefaced.

They were led to a large chamber, where the mother -Stiles assumed - took a seat at a chair in the front, almost like a queen. He was almost tempted to laugh, but the seriousness of the situation prevented him from the amusement of an alpha considering herself royalty. She had to be, the way she sat on the chair primly, allowing the lowly peasants to bring their concerns before her. She was the first to speak. “I’m afraid I’m making an assumption that you know what happened as well. You certainly act like you do.”

He shrugged. “I know about werewolves, if that makes you feel better. I’ve no intention of playing games here, certainly not when I sincerely want your son to be punished severely for his actions tonight.”

The eyes shifted to the wolfpuppy standing a short distance from him. With a tone of betrayal, the woman asked, “What did you do?”

He sniffled a couple of times, already feeling the brunt of reproach. Stiles waited for him to fess up for only another moment before continuing. “He didn’t do anything. That’s precisely the problem.

That girl was attacked by an alpha. From what I understand, he’d lured the girl there under false pretenses knowing the alpha would be there, hoping she would get bit and his precious girlfriend would be forced into this life.”

He paused to let the facts sink in, before continuing, beginning to pace, one eye on the shame-faced boy.. “Even discounting how incredibly morally unjust it is to just let her be turned like that when she has no idea what’s going on, some people die from the bite. Did you even once take that into consideration when you allowed this situation to arise?”

The young man suddenly looked significantly more panicked. “She’s young and strong. It would never -”

“Never? So you’ve never heard even once the story of a bite ending badly? Do you even know your own history? Why families like the Argents started hunting your kind in the first place?” A particularly vicious hand gesture had a spot of coagulating, thick blood landing heavy against the carpet. Stiles seemed to have barely noticed as he returned to pacing. He prowled for a moment before turning back to the adults in the room. “I sincerely hope this isn’t the kind of behavior you’re encouraging in your young betas.”

The woman’s eyes glowed red briefly. He’d guessed right that she was the alpha. It was kind of obvious, really. “Believe me, it is not. I will decide a fitting punishment. This cannot happen again.”

The man behind her -the dad -coughed. “The question remains what we do with the girl now.”

The woman beside him looked to Stiles. “How much does she know.”

It was clearly not a question. But for all that, it was still not forceful. Stiles liked this new alpha, even if he was going to have to have a serious talk with the pack about territories. Stiles shrugged.

“Difficult to say. She’s in shock. I mentioned the word werewolf, in relation to this guy -” Stiles gestured a thumb towards the other boy. “And she got an up-close-and-personal look at that alpha. But she fainted at some point. It’s possible she’ll convince herself she made the whole thing up. In my experience, you can’t put the werewolf back in the bag, but I don’t get a say about who knows about your camp, at least not when it comes to humans.” Stiles shrugged. He started pacing again. “There is one other thing…”

“Talia? Why is there a half-naked teenager in our meeting room?”

Stiles stopped abruptly. Then glanced around. Who…? Oh. He was still wearing nothing but his boxers. He’d forgotten. Stiles shrugged briefly. It didn’t really matter so long as he wasn’t uncomfortable.

They had more important things to worry about.

“Ah, Peter. Come here, you should meet him… In fact I don’t think I caught your name…”

It started to sound very far away as she continued talking. Talia, he would have thought nothing of. He’d never met the legendary alpha of the Hale family, after all, and so while the name was one he knew, it wasn’t one that was readily in his lexicon. But Talia and Peter, both names together, in a building that stood where the Hale house belonged, and he’d just saved a young girl from the idiotic decision of a teenager. His heart began to thud as he looked -really looked -at the young boy’s face, then at the ‘Peter’ that had just walked in, seeing the faces these younger ones would one day grow into.

“Shit!” Stiles swore, eyes going wild. “If he’s... Then you’re… Did I just?”

Stiles clamped a hand down on his own mouth, breathing heavy. He knew they could all hear his heartbeat, and it was with no amount of sick dread that he saw freaking Derek Hale, of all people trying to extend a comforting hand as the closest one to him. He batted the hand away, stumbling backward. “I need to speak to Deaton. I need to speak to Deaton right now.”

Talia Hale smiled reassuringly. “What’s wrong? You must know, you aren’t in any danger from us.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Stiles mumbled, before he remembered that werewolves and his heart thudded again with dread. Perhaps they’d mistake the panicked pickup for a lie and leave it at that.

It took a little bit more fighting, but they eventually agreed to take him to Deaton, despite it being the middle of the night. And then he was being driven away in a Black Camaro that was probably only a few generations older than the Camaro he was so familiar with. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The woman beside him didn’t look familiar in the slightest. She must have died in the fire.

It was an awkward, long drive. She asked a couple of questions at first -what’s your name, where are you from, normal things. But he couldn’t bear the idea of making quite so horrible a mistake again. He refused to say this time. And she quickly gave up.

Talia, her husband Aaron, and Peter remained in the meeting room, reviewing the facts.

“What do we do with the girl, then?” Aaron asked again.

Talia nodded, but in response, said “I think we should be asking ourselves how reliable a source this boy is. What kind of person is this stranger that he just happened to be in the position to save some innocent girl’s life tonight? Is he someone we can trust?”

“I think he’s the kind of person that has seen so much death that even as a teenager, he can’t muster up the shame to feel naked and exposed in nothing but a pair of boxers.” Peter said, and while it was a rather obvious statement of fact, lining all the facts up like that highlighted the true weight of the apathy.

“It’s normal to be at least a little self-conscious, especially around so many strangers. But he just stood there explaining the facts. How much darkness does someone that young need to see to drive out self-consciousness?”

“Or to completely ignore his own wounds as they bleed on our carpet? He has to be able to judge the exact amount of damage he can take before it’s serious if he just let it run like that.” Aaron, chimed in.

Talia stared after the boy again. Perhaps not so trustworthy a source then. Then she looked back to Peter. “What about you frightened him so much that he had to go to Deaton right at that moment?”

Peter replayed the scene, quietly mulling over all the possibilities, but as usual not sharing his thoughts.

Derek, still standing in the corner, said. “It was the name.”

Derek felt a brief uptick of anger from his mother as she remembered he was there -remembered why he was there -before she gestured for him to continue with a heavy sigh. “I never told him who I was. There wasn’t any time. And I never told him who you were -I think he just fit the pieces together. Do you remember what he said?”

Peter made a small ‘o’ of realization. “He recognized the names. Talia and Peter. As in Talia and Peter Hale.”

Talia stood, eyebrows scrunched together deeply. “Then what’s so wrong about the Hales that he couldn’t continue talking to us? He had to see Deaton right away.”

Derek, feeling bolstered by the fact that he was able to help, asked, “Who’s Deaton?”

Talia glared at her son, as though to say, ‘don’t think you’re off the hook so easily’ before replying “He’s our emissary. Normally, out of respect, we don’t use his name, to protect his privacy. Either he doesn’t know that, or he does know that and wanted to be very clear.”

Peter snarled. “Yes, there’s a lot of things this strange man who showed up covered in blood knows.”

“It’s his own blood.” Derek chimed in, and when all eyes turned to him, continued. “He drew some funny symbol on the door in blood and it made it look like the door had disappeared. Like there was just wall there.”

His family took this news with more surprise than he was expecting. “A druid?” Aaron asked.

Peter shook his head. “Druids don’t use blood magic. It’s too dark. He’s either a witch or…”

“Or something worse than a witch.” Talia finished. “Is that why he ran? Is he seeking asylum with the emissary because he thinks we’ll punish him for using blood magic?”

Aaron gave a thoughtful noise similar to a growl. “Is he in a situation where he would deserve punishing?”

Talia stood. “Speaking of punishments, Derek, we have yet to discuss yours. Regardless of the nature of the man we met today, I know he spoke the truth about your part in all of this, or you would have defended yourself. We do not take those who are unwilling. Ever. Not even to save a life, which you did not do. This is an unacceptable action on your part, and the consequences will be severe.”

Derek hung his head low. Talia glanced at Aaron, then began to walk across the hall. “Before I decide the level with which you must be punished, I’m going to discuss things with this girl, find out exactly how much she knows.”

Peter left after her, no doubt to do the same. But Derek couldn’t help but wonder, a seed of doubt forming in his mind. Had it not been Peter who had insinuated that things would have been better if she were a werewolf?


	2. Chapter 2

Deaton looked younger. Not much younger. But enough. He was less battle-hardened, softer. It was at that moment that Stiles realized Derek wasn’t the only one who’d lost an entire family the night of the Hale fire. And it solidified further his certainty that he could reveal very little, or risk very much.

Stiles waited until he was certain the werewolf had left, but even then, put a finger to his lips. He reached for a drawer full of office supplies, pulling out a small matchbook, a pen, and borrowing a sticky from the desk.

And when Stiles wrote I AM FROM THE FUTURE in large scrawling letters on the paper, Deaton raised a skeptical eyebrow. Stiles tore the paper to shreds and then burned it.

“Are you sure -”

“I was casting a spell.” Stiles cut him off with the hybrid explanation. “A spell designed to heal a magical scar left in my land. It was an extremely complicated spell and took a long time to cast, but I was fairly certain I’d done it correctly. The problem, then, of course, is that I wound up here.”

Stiles gestured unhelpfully to the area he was in, and Deaton was listening more patiently. “Obviously you can imagine my alarm at winding up in Hale territory. They are a very old, very important family, and I wouldn’t want to muck up relations.”

The in the future was implied. Anyone who was listening would hear a completely plausible explanation that would even explain his departure adequately.

Deaton frowned. “So the spell malfunctioned.”

Stiles shrugged. “I have a theory. Perhaps I was a little too thorough in my methodology, and it took a longer view of what could heal the scar in my land. I think it put me right where I’m supposed to be. The trick will be figuring out what to do here.”

Deaton navigated. “All the while figuring out what… not to do to… upset the Hales.”

Stiles nodded, grinning. “Exactly.”

Deaton frowned. “Are you certain things would not be easier if you just went back home? There could be severe unintended consequences from magic that strong.”

It was strange. Stiles used to hate Deaton for the way he could be vague about everything under the sun. And now, he appreciated the instinct. “Honestly, I worry that I’ve already set things in motion. Besides, short of taking the… long way, I’m actually not sure how to get home. I don’t think if I tried recreating the spell that it would have the desired reversal effects.”

Deaton took a moment to think, piecing together how nuances the sentence was, before saying, “I fear you may be right. In that case, I shall endeavor to aid in your concealment. I may be able to pull you a job at the police station. They are looking for a new officer. Though of course, you would have to be able to play the part well.”

Stiles’ eyes went wide. “I don’t… are you sure such a job wouldn’t upset the… tenuous magical balance we find ourselves in?”

On the one hand, he couldn’t explain about his dad. Not out in the open like this. But on the other, it was going to be a serious problem. Deaton sighed. “We can talk more at my house. I get the impression you’re trying to be cautious with your words.” The statement was accompanied by a twinkle in his eyes, and Stiles had the sudden urge to hit the man. “I have something that will suffice, though.”

Crossing the threshold of Deaton’s house made him realize that he’d never been here before, and it took a cursory examination at the wards overlaying the mold of the door to realize they were anti-eavesdropping wards. He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were this good, I must say.”

Deaton returned the dubious look. “Then who’d you learn from?”

Stiles said nothing. Then, half a beat later, “That’s not important. What’s important is I don’t think I can be on the police force.”

Deaton shrugged. “If it’s an issue of talent, I have enough pull there that -”

“Okay, for starters, the implication that you would willingly put someone incompetent on the police force is incredibly disturbing. No, it’s because… okay look, there are probably some things you should really know. My father is on the police force. He’s probably still a deputy right now.”

Deaton scanned his brain for names quickly. “Deputy Stilinski? Good man. You look a little like him. Also, ultimately irrelevant. He won’t recognize you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah but I’ll be standing there having to pretend I don’t know intimate secrets about his life.”  
“Not for long.”

Stiles opened his mouth to retort, then shut it again, the realization coming over him. “If I take pains to insert myself into the heart of the city, then it will look less strange if I end up mentioning something I shouldn’t know.”

“Exactly.” Deaton smiled. It was strange, on his younger, more innocent face. It didn’t look rare or out of place.

Stiles sighed. “I still don’t like it. I feel like I should be trying to avoid my old life. But we’ll try it your way.”

“Is there anyone we should know about? I know you can’t say much, but I want to avoid any unexpected accidents if possible.” Deaton asked.

Stiles could think of one person immediately. “Ka -”

He stopped himself. “I don’t know how much I should tell you.”

Deaton stood up. “If, as you say, this was to heal a terrible pain, then there are certain major consequences. Whether those consequences are avoidable or not, I think, is up to you, and the decisions you make. What you must decide is if the price to pay is ultimately worth it. It will come with a heavy cost.”

“I know. And I don’t know if I’m ready to pay it yet. So in answer to your question, Kate Argent. I’ll need to know every move she makes. I’ll spare you the details. Sc -actually, maybe not him with the way things change. Lydia Martin, potentially very important, but may remain… inactive, for lack of a better word. Still, she’s one to keep an eye out. Jennifer Blake, but I don’t remember her real name. I don’t think I got here in time to stop Deucalion, which means that chain reaction is still falling.”

Deaton held a hand up. “Deucalion? The alpha who came here for peace talks?”

Stiles went cold. “Yeah. I’ve probably already told you too much. If we’re lucky, that situation won’t turn out quite as poorly as it did for me and mine.”

Stiles’ tendency to run his mouth was getting the better of him, and he took a breath to calm his mind. Then another, more slowly this time, as he looked at Deaton. “Listen, I don’t think…”

Deaton nodded. “You’re carrying a heavy burden. I understand.”

Stiles snorted. “You understand? With that face? How many people have you killed?”

Deaton took a step back in alarm. “I… once…”

“In self defense, right? The day you have to weigh someone else’s life -someone who’s done nothing wrong -against the greater good, the day you’re helpless watching someone you love die, you can come to me and tell me you understand. Someone -I don’t know who yet, but someone is going to die because of the decision I made saving -” He stopped abruptly. The less people knew about the entirely crucial part Paige played in Derek’s downfall, the better.

He had a suspicion that it was the death of his first love that would lead him into a destructive, needy relationship with a hunter -someone who knew his secret, someone who wasn’t family that he didn’t need to hide from, couldn’t hurt. And given how much trouble Kate Argent had been to him, that relationship had to be part of the key. He looked around at Deaton’s house and felt claustrophobic. “I need a place to stay.”

Deaton looked around with him. “You can’t stay here, can you?”

Stiles shook his head. “I need to think, I need to plot my brain out. I can’t do that with someone else in the house, not with what I know.”

He sighed deeply, then. “I need a job. Police force is as good as any. I still think it’s a bad idea, but I know the pay isn’t half bad, and I’ll be good at it.”

They were both quiet, before Deaton made a call.

It was the very next day that he had his first day on the job. He was paired with another officer, by the name of Morris.

“We’re just gonna take it easy tonight. Beacon Hills is a pretty quiet town.”

Stiles tried not to snort at that, thinking of all the animal attacks from the hills. ‘Animal attacks.’

“How good are you with a gun?” Morris asked him. Stiles glanced over, brain thinking overtime.

“I’m alright. Don’t get many hours in at the shooting range, but I’m accurate at short range.”

Morris nodded. “Alright, well we can get some hours in at the range at the station. In the meantime, it’s unlikely you’ll need to use it. I know guys on the force who’ve never fired a shot.”

Stiles frowned thoughtfully. He didn’t know what kinds of strings Deaton had pulled, but it was disturbing how trusting Morris was. How willing he was to trust Stiles’ word that he could protect them.

And the idea that there were people in Beacon Hills who’d never fired a shot… well that simply wasn’t true. Not in the Beacon Hills he knew. The sheriff and deputy both had killed someone in the line of duty, and there wasn’t an unused shell in the office when the oni came.

He felt a chill down his spine as they drove slowly through the quiet streets. Hamlet. Stiles thought, looking at the quaintness of it all. Then he snorted as he imagined Beacon Hills as some sort of morbid Shakespearean tragedy. He breathed in slowly. Focus, Stiles.

It was the exposition. He realized suddenly. He was at the start of all of this. Once one domino fell, the rest crashed down like a landslide. The Hales fell, there was nothing to protect Beacon Hills, other supernatural creatures stormed in, and then everything with sealing the Nemeton. Obviously, this wasn’t a tale of fiction, but he was at the moment where everything changed. That’s why he was sent here -if he had any hope of changing things for the better, it had to be before the dominos fell, not midway through. And if that was the case, then of course there wouldn’t be an increase of homicides. The Hales were taking care of things.

It was the Hale death. If the Hales died, his future was locked in stone. Scott would be turned -somehow. One of the Hales was bound to survive and turn rabid, it didn’t have to be Peter.

And Scott’s status as a true Alpha was what brought Deucalion back to Beacon Hills, and his search for the perfect pack. Without Scott, the broken remnants of the Hale pack were too small for such a powerful pack to care about.

But Talia Hale… she might have just been powerful enough to stop Deucalion, if she had an edge. He would have left the Hales alone. Of course he would have! Stiles knew Talia was special. That she’d had the ability to transform into a full wolf. If she could do that and Deucalion thought he could take her, she would have been the first on his list.

He barely glanced over at Morris the entire time. The officer had been correct -they’d not seen so much as a jaywalking in progress. Stiles felt strange as he walked back to the vet’s house, solid in the knowledge that he was safe.

Deaton had a car for him there. He’d have to figure out one on his own if he was here for more than a few days. But for now this would do. He made a beeline for the loft.

Based on the dilapidated state it had been in during his time, he was hoping it was in the same state now. It was strange to realize that it was being rented out as a studio apartment - multiple studio apartments, really. But it was still empty, so he was able to negotiate a lease agreement with the manager, citing Deaton for nearly every reference, though he did list Talia Hale’s name as well, and the name of the sheriff as his current employer..

“I’m uh… I’m new to town, so unfortunately I don’t know many people.”

The landlord didn’t seem to care, only shrugging as he handed over the paperwork. He wouldn’t be able to move in until the background check cleared, but he trusted that whatever mojo Deaton had worked to get the far more intense background check completed for the police job would pass housing requirements as well.

It was only as he was walking back to the car and reaching into his pocket for his phone to check the time that he realized he didn’t have it. He cursed, thinking about how much money it would cost to buy a replacement phone. Deaton had given him a small allowance, but it wasn’t much.

It took ages to find a cell phone store. Apparently, phone shacks weren’t a thing yet. The flip phone felt large and clunky, and the buttons were stiff. But it was better than nothing. Styles thought briefly about if he could invest in Apple now and be set for life - but no, he wasn’t that far back in the past. Surely Apple was already a thing right?

Stiles realized at that point that he was in desperate need of additional reconnaissance. He didn’t know enough about when he was, and the where was so familiar that it was hard to remember that it was a question he needed to ask. The next step would have to be a library. Or perhaps a shower, he realized, as he attempted to pull up Google Maps on his flip phone, remembered that wasn’t a thing yet, and tried to remember how to get to the library from where he was now.


End file.
